


Make Up Your Own Steps

by misura



Category: Swordspoint Series - Ellen Kushner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you know," said Katherine, "at this rate, I believe that it will not take people very long at all to start referring to me as the 'Mad Duchess'."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Up Your Own Steps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lorata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorata/gifts).



Less than half a year ago, Artemisia Fitz-Levi might have confessed to being tolerably fond of dancing. Much, after all, depended on one's partner; while being held and engaging in some whispered, intimate conversation could be quite fun with the right person, with others, it could be rather dreary, or even unpleasant.

Tonight, though, she was tempted to call herself an enthusiast, if not a devotee.

"Do you know," said Katherine, "at this rate, I believe that it will not take people very long at all to start referring to me as the 'Mad Duchess'. Although I confess I am in some doubt as to whether it will be because I go around wearing breeches, or simply because I am so obviously smitten by someone who has given every indication of not being the least bit concerned with my comfort."

Artemisia smiled, amused rather than offended. "My dear Tyrian. Do you doubt that I would still love you just as well if you chose to wear dresses instead?"

"Ah," said Katherine, "but then, would you choose to wear breeches for me, to satisfy society's convention that dancing is an activity that may be indulged in by someone wearing a dress paired with someone wearing breeches?"

"Perhaps." Artemisia had, in fact, been considering the subject. She had prepared some preliminary designs which she had not yet shown to anyone. "Would you wish to see your Stella thus?"

She had been a trifle disquieted recently, to find that, upon rereading _The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death_ , there were moments when she wished that rather than being forced to rely upon Fabian and Tyrian, Stella might have acted on her own behalf.

How different would certain scenes have played out, had Stella been as capable a swordsman as, for example, Fabian? And would not Fabian (and Tyrian, too) have loved her every bit as well for it, if not even more so?

Ought not a man to look to his wife as a partner and an equal, rather than an obligation, an _object_ , for whom he might feel affection and even love, but who would forever depend on him to keep her safe, to protect her honor?

Could one even speak of love, in a relationship so clearly unequal?

And yet, could one read _The Swordsman Whose Name Was Not Death_ and doubt the depth and sincerity of Fabian's feelings for Stella, and Tyrian's feelings for both Stella and his dearest friend?

Could Artemisia look at, for example, Lydia Godwin, now Lydia Lindley, and doubt that she was loved?

"My only wish is to see you happy," Katherine said, her expression far too serious for the occasion.

Artemisia wondered what her own face had revealed, to warrant such seriousness. "And are you? Truly, Katherine, are you happy?" It was not what she ought to have said, of course. Not if she wanted to continue this little game, of Katherine being faithful Tyrian and she being Stella.

It was the question she wished answered, though.

"I promise you, I am very happy," Katherine said, and smiled at her in that shy way that made Artemisia's stomach feel fluttery.

For a lady to kiss a gentleman in public was, naturally, entirely improper. Artemisia would not dream of doing anything so scandalous.

"Althought I would be happier still," Katherine added, "were you to consent to dance with me again."

"Of course." She would show Katherine her designs, she thought. As soon as she had settled on a color and a fabric. "If you consent to my price."

"No price could be too high," Katherine said, as Artemisia had known she would. Tyrian was indubitably the most sensible character in the book, yet he, too, was as enchanted by Stella as he was dedicated to Fabian, who was his friend.

And so, by the end, he lost both of them.

"I want an honest answer to my question," Artemisia said. "Really, Katherine. Do you think that I care what anyone else thinks? Besides, who knows? We might start a new fashion."

"Of ladies wearing breeches?" Katherine grinned. "Will gentlemen start wearing dresses, do you think?"

Artemisia pictured Robbie struggling and giggled. "It would serve them right." Her parents had high hopes of Robbie making a good match, to make up for her not making any at all.

 _Or so they think._ She would never marry Katherine, of course. _That_ was simply not possible. Still, if Artemisia chose to act as if she had, and Katherine chose to do the same ... well.

"I think they should only do so if they want to," Katherine said. "I think that nobody has the right to force anyone else to do or say or wear anything they don't want to."

"I think that I should like to move in with you," Artemisia said. "If you'll have me."

Katherine very nearly stumbled. "Are your parents - ?"

"They are much the same." It had been months since her mother had last threatened to see her thrown out onto the street. A certain reconciliation had taken place since then, with her parents seeming to resign themselves to the situation. They spoke to her at meals, and even in between, almost as if nothing had happened at all, as if no harsh words had ever been spoken.

_Do they imagine that all is forgiven and forgotten simply because they act as if it is?_

"Ah." Katherine looked relieved.

"My dear Tyrian," Artemisia said. "Would you fight even my own family?"

"If they have wronged you, I would not hesitate for a single moment," said Katherine, which was very gallant, and probably exactly what Tyrian would have said. "Still, I'm glad that it will not be required."

"Actually, I expect they'll be glad to see me go." Her mother, Artemisia suspected, might well see fit to make a scene. That might be a little awkward, but knowing that it would be the very last time, and that Katherine would be waiting for her should help her through it. She would not need Katherine to be present for that, no more than Stella had needed Tyrian or Fabian to get down from the roof without Mangrove's minions seeing her.

"You will be very welcome," Katherine said. "Are you quite sure, though? I promise, if you change your mind tomorrow or the day after, I will entirely understand."

"Will people call me mad, too, do you think?" Artemisia asked. She would start packing tomorrow morning, after breakfast. There was no reason to put it off, after all, and every reason to get the thing over with quickly, now that it was decided.

"Not within my hearing, if they value their lives." Katherine's tone was grim, and so obviously exaggerated that it made Artemisia smile.

"Well, but who is to say they would not be right?" she asked. "Perhaps sometimes, it is not such a bad thing at all, to be a little bit mad." As Fabian had been, choosing love over honor and duty; as Tyrian had been, putting his friendship for Fabian before his love for Stella.

_Granted, things didn't work out so well for them in the end. Still, they were happy for a while._

"I don't think either of us is mad, for wanting what we do," Katherine said. "I think that maybe it is just everyone else who is mad."

"What a cheerful thought. And yet, it would explain quite a bit."

"Wouldn't it?"


End file.
